Very soon after this, Moti, who continued to live in the serai,
came back one wet and stormy evening to find that his precious
horse had strayed. Nothing remained of him but a broken halter
cord, and no one knew what had become of him. After inquiring of
everyone who was likely to know, Moti seized the cord and his big
staff and sallied out to look for him. Away and away he tramped
out of the city and into the neighbouring forest, tracking hoof-
marks in the mud. Presently it grew late, but still Moti wandered
on until suddenly in the gathering darkness he came right upon a
tiger who was contentedly eating his horse.

'You thief!' shrieked Moti, and ran up and, just as the tiger, in
astonishment, dropped a bone--whack! came Moti's staff on his
head with such good will that the beast was half stunned and
could hardly breathe or see. Then Moti continued to shower upon
him blows and abuse until the poor tiger could hardly stand,
whereupon his tormentor tied the end of the broken halter round
his neck and dragged him back to the serai.

'If you had my horse,' he said, 'I will at least have you, that's
fair enough!' And he tied him up securely by the head and heels,
much as he used to tie the horse; then, the night being far gone,
he flung himself beside him and slept soundly.

You cannot imagine anything like the fright of the people in the
serai, when they woke up and found a tiger--very battered but
still a tiger--securely tethered amongst themselves and their
beasts! Men gathered in groups talking and exclaiming, and
finding fault with the innkeeper for allowing such a dangerous
beast into the serai, and all the while the innkeeper was just as